


the person 15 year old me would be proud to have known

by shella688



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, I just think Jonathan Vangelis deserves a shot at a better life, I will Pepper In The Fact that both Jonnys have the same nervous stim, Time Travel, both the main title and chapter titles are from Battle Cries by The Amazing Devil, reference to DTTM, references to the fact Jonny didn't have a great childhood but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25446238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shella688/pseuds/shella688
Summary: Jonny can feel his end coming, and figures if he can't fuck up the timeline and meet his younger self now, whencanhe?Problem is- he didn't expect to end up actually caring about the kid.Now what the hell is he supposed to do?
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville & the younger version of Jonny d'Ville
Comments: 108
Kudos: 200





	1. our devils broke ranks

Time travel has lots of rules.

Don't end up in a time loop in case you never get out! Don't step on that butterfly because then it can't flap its wings to start a storm and we could really do with the rain! Don't let people know about their future because they might try and change it and wind up writing themselves out of existence entirely!

Jonny d'Ville has broken near every one of these rules, and takes pride in having done so. The universe hasn't ended yet, has it? So, by his logic, they can't be all that important. There is, however, one rule even he hasn't tried to circumvent.

**Don't meet yourself coming the other way.**

Go back in time and kill your great-grandfather if you must, but be  _ very  _ sure not to disturb his great-grandchild who, funnily enough, looks a lot like you.

Consensus is divided as to why this is the most damaging thing you can do. Some experts claim it's because the brain can only suspend its disbelief so far, and seeing a copy of itself causes it to short circuit entirely. A few, more fringe, theorists have big ideas that demonstrate just how little they understand quantum entanglement.

Jonny, sitting on a sticky bar stool in the back end of nowhere, glaring at the mouthy kid who thinks answering back is a personality trait, has his own opinion.

Avoid meeting your past self, because, likely as not,  _ they're a fucking prick. _

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The bar was exactly how he remembered it. The drinks were cheap and tasted cheaper, the glasses had probably never been cleaned, and you only ended up there when you really hit rock bottom.

Of course, the thing about Jonny's good old hometown was that everyone had run out of luck - if they ever had any to start with. The bar did a booming trade near every night.

He wondered when the nostalgia would kick in. He hoped it was soon - the whole purpose of this trip was to feel a little nostalgia at the end of his life, and maybe cause problems whilst he was at it, and the faster the nostalgia came the faster he could get off this godsforsaken planet.

Jonny glanced over at the kid, who had just finished a shouting match with another patron over something that probably wasn't worth the effort. He was maybe fifteen, if that, angry at the world and his life and himself. His back was against the wall, the one door was clearly in view, and a gun was laid conspicuously on the table. Jonny wondered briefly if this was how he was going to die, shot in the heart by his own self. Maybe the universe had a sense of humour after all.

He sauntered over.

"Anyone sitting here?" he asked, sitting down on the empty chair opposite anyway.

The kid glowered.

"What's it to you, old man?"

Now that was unfair - he didn't even look all that old!

But, for some reason, it was this that finally drove home all the millenia Jonny had lived. He was old, his  _ crew  _ were old - Tim's aim was wavering, Brian's heart had skipped a beat, Ivy was forgetting - and here he was, an old man returning back to where it all started and sitting across the table from someone who, funnily enough, looked a lot like him. 

Gods time travel was the worst.

  
  


Jonny shrugged.

"What's a kid like you doing in a place like this?

"Who's asking?"

"Call me a benevolent stranger."

"That's not a name."

Oh for the love of-

Jonny sighed heavily. He could  _ swear  _ as a kid he wasn't this difficult - all current evidence to the contrary be damned. It was almost a good job Marius wasn't here - he would have had a field day trying to pyschoanalyse them both.

"Hey old man. Quit zoning out." The kid waved his hand in front of Jonny's face.

"What?" he snapped, batting it away.

"Never gave me an answer, did you? What's your name?"

In a startling display of foresight, Jonny decided maybe using his own name wasn't a good idea.

"Marius," he said, slightly too quickly.

The kid snorted.

"Yeah, and I'm the king of this whole fucking planet." He stuck out a hand. "Vangelis. Jonathan Vangelis."

Jonny reached over and shook it. The nostalgia still hadn't started, but he definitely had new ways to cause problems with the timeline now. 

He grinned. This was going to be one hell of a trip.


	2. who died and made you king of it all?

Jonny slept in something the owners insisted was a hotel despite the lack of any visible attempt at hospitality. He spent the day wandering the streets he used to know so well and realised, even after all this time, he could still find his way around.

He stayed very deliberately away from a ramshackle old place going by the name of One Eyed Jack’s.

As the sun set over the town, Jonny found himself back at the bar. He wasn't going to go back in again - of course he wasn't! There was nothing for him inside beyond a sour drink and the human equivalent of all the worst parts of looking in a mirror.

The bell above the door rang as he opened it.

Vangelis was sitting in the same place as last night, seeming for all the world as if he hadn’t moved at all. Maybe he hadn’t - god knows the kid’s home wasn’t much better than this bar.

He slid into the seat opposite, picking up the kid’s drink and downing it in one go. Fishing a few dull coins out his pocket, Jonny pushed them across the table.

Vangelis just stared.

“The hell was that about?”

“It’s not good for someone your age to be drinking.” Jonny motioned towards the coins. “Besides, I paid for it, didn’t I?”

Vangelis picked up one of the coins, trying to make out the inscription on its dirty surface. Jonny was suddenly struck by the unfortunate realisation that he had no idea what kind of currency it was, nor how much it would actually be worth.

“How-” Vangelis started.

Jonny was already speaking.

“I don’t know how much it’s worth. I don’t know what planet it’s from. I don’t even know if it’s from this time period.” He made an attempt at looking apologetic. “Any further questions?”

“What the fuck are you on about?” asked the kid, looking like he was really considering using the gun. “These are normal coins.”

That threw him.

"Pass us it here-" Jonny began, reaching across to have another look.

"Hey, get off! The money's mine now." Vangelis shoved them in his pocket and glared. "What's your name? Your real one. I need to know who to blame when these turn out to be fakes."

"Maybe I  _ am _ Marius. Try asking nicer."

This was what people meant when they said to teach kids manners, right?

"Quit being so cryptic or I'll blow your head off."

That wouldn't kill him, of course, but Jonny figured it would ruin the atmosphere of the situation.

"Fine - Brian."

A pause.

"No you're not," said Vangelis.

"No I'm not," agreed Jonny cheerily.

Vangelis rolled his eyes in disgust. He pushed away from the table and stalked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Honestly, teenagers these days.

* * *

He slept, he set fire to an abandoned barn on the edge of town, he imagined setting fire to the ramshackle old place going by One Eyed Jack’s.

And, once again, Jonny ended up at the bar. Maybe it was a habit already, maybe just morbid curiosity. Perhaps, although Jonny wouldn’t admit this out loud, he found it almost enjoyable to talk with Vangelis, time travel rules be damned.

Jonny nodded the kid a greeting as he sat down.

“You’re not stealing my drink this time,” Vangelis said by way of response.

Just as polite as usual then.

“Good to know.”

“And I’m not going to apologise for last night.”

Jonny wasn’t sure there was anything to actually apologise for, but it seemed like the kid had something he wanted to say, and who was Jonny to bother stopping him?

"Good to know.”

“And I want your actual name.”

“Good to-”

Jonny’s brain kicked in, and Vangelis’ words finally computed.

“Alright then, I’m Tim.”

The kid narrowed his eyes, looking Jonny up and down.

“You don’t even look like a Tim,” he said after a while.

Was that an insult? Jonny couldn’t quite decide.

“You don’t look like a prat either, but here we are.”

Vangelis hesitated, but then he smirked. It wasn’t a proper laugh, nowhere near, but for some reason it made Jonny incredibly proud.

  
  


* * *

  
  


So maybe it  _ was  _ a routine, sue him. Wake up, cause problems, go see Vangelis, very deliberately don’t think about the shitstorm of a life that’s coming for him.

Jonny wasn’t getting fond of the kid. Of course not. So what if the name thing had turned into a game, and Jonny counted it as a win every time he got an almost-laugh? That didn't  _ mean  _ anything.

“Evening Vangelis.”

“Evening- ?”

“Ivy.”

“That’s worse than Tim.” Eye roll, half-smile - win.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Pass us your drink.”

“Get your own, old man.”

“It’s Raphaella.”

“You’re not posh enough to be called Raphaella.”

“Well that's awfully inconsiderate of you, isn't it my dear?”

A laugh, quickly stifled - win.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Running out of names yet?”

“Nope! Ashes, pleased to meet you.”

“That’s just a noun.” 

“All the best names are.”

Heavy sigh.

“I got you a drink by the way.”

A gift - win?

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Nastya.”

“Where the hell do you get these from?”

Pause.

“Old friends.”

“Must be nice.”

“You’re aware of how sad that sounds?”

“What can I say? Piece of shit place like this, only reason someone cares about you is when you owe them.”

Silence for the rest of the night - not good.

* * *

“Who’re you being today?”

Don’t sit down yet, click heels, snap a salute.

“The Toy Soldier old chum!”

“Your friends were weird.”

“I heard that it takes one to know one, old bean!”

“Sit  _ down _ .”

Tries to keep straight face, can’t quite finish sentence before it breaks - definite win.


	3. we'd laugh at the ghosts of our fears

The next day, Jonathan Vangelis isn’t there.

He isn’t back the day after either, or the one after that. Jonny keeps returning to the bar each night, telling himself it’s because he has nothing better to do and ignoring the growing concern for Vangelis.

How old would the kid be by now? Old enough to have met Carmilla yet? How old was  _ he  _ when he shot his dear old father on Jack’s orders?

Those questions were rhetorical, but the universe has a funny way of giving you answers even when you don’t want them.

Jack was sat in Jonny’s usual seat, and as he slid into where Vangelis usually was - where Vangelis  _ should have been  _ \- the irony wasn’t lost on him.

“Alright Jack?” Jonny kept his voice carefully level.

Jack leered, that was the only way to describe it. He wasn’t necessarily a big man, but he would get in your space and back you into a corner and make you  _ feel  _ small.

Of course, Jonny had met far worse bastards in his time. But there was something about being back here, surrounded by all the memories of his past, that made him feel young again - and not in the good way.

“A little birdie told me you’d been getting friendly with Billy Vangelis’ boy.”

Jonny recognised that grin. It was the ‘I know all the facts here, I’m just waiting to see how you’ll squirm your way out of this one’ grin. 

He hated that grin.

“I’ve been talking to him. What’s it to you?”

“He’s running with my lot now.”

Jack leaned back in his seat in a way that revealed the gun holstered at his side. 

“I’d suggest you back off.”

Jonny was almost tempted to provoke Jack further, just so he’d get shot. It would hurt like a bitch - injuries always seemed to hurt more these days - but would be well worth it for the look on Jack’s face as he came back to life.

_ If  _ he came back to life, that is. There was always the chance that any death now would be the one that did him in for good, and Jonny refused on principle to let Jack be the one to kill him permanently.

He stayed silent, staring impassively across the table.

Jack narrowed his eyes.

“I’m warning you. The kid’s one of mine now.”

He spat as he stood up, and as he walked out, bar patrons who might have been trying to listen in on the conversation turned very quickly back to their own drinks.

Jonny exhaled, running a hand through his hair and thinking back to the good old days when he couldn’t pinpoint exactly on his timeline Vangelis existed on.

He had known, of course, what was coming. But he and the crew had always played fast and loose with time, and the knowledge of his own past had never quite matched up to the life of the kid who should have been sat across from him right now. Jonny could make jokes about his old crew to try and get a reaction, and he could pretend like the kid had a halfway decent life.

And now all of a sudden things are playing out exactly as they did before. How long does it take, Jonny wondered, to turn someone like Vangelis into someone like him? The first kill, perhaps? The tenth? Or had it already begun, thousands of tiny things adding up-

Jonny’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “Things playing out exactly as they did before”? That clearly wasn’t true, not least because Jonny  _ definitely  _ doesn’t remember any conversation with another version of himself. And if some things were already playing out different well- what was one more fuckup of the established timeline to add to the pile?

He pushed back from the table with a sigh. Jonny d'Ville, trying to help someone? If his crew were still around he'd never hear the end of it.


	4. sing your notes, play your part

Lots of things seem like perfect ideas when it's 1am, you're buzzing with adrenaline and nerves, and you've just brushed off the biggest crime boss in the town.

Come 11am the next morning, however, and Jonny realised he had no idea where to even begin. He couldn't pay a visit to the Vangelis house, on account of the being really fucking creepy, and his usual backup plan of shooting machines until they exploded wasn't applicable here.

For lack of any other ideas, Jonny hung around the bar all day. The barkeep was probably sick of him - he didn't buy anything, he spent all day sat in the corner staring at everyone who entered, and he tried busking with his harmonica until someone paid him to stop - but she didn't throw him out, which he was thankful for, because he wasn't sure he had anywhere else to go.

The day passed slowly. Every time the door opened, Jonny would jerk awake out of whatever half-daydream state he'd fallen into, only to see yet another person who wasn't Vangelis.

Just today, he decided. He'd stick around for just today, then if Vangelis didn't show up he'd take his spacecraft and go to some other godsforsaken planet. He heard Malone was nice this time of year.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jonny didn't leave.

It was hardly a surprise, despite the deal he'd made with himself. Stubbornness alone had got him through worse situations than this - Jonny was prepared to wait however long it took.

And then finally,  _ finally,  _ Vangelis was back in the bar, sat in his usual seat. The table was empty - no gun, no drink - but Jonny didn't bother to think about that as he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Oh thank fuck you're here," he said, almost collapsing into the chair.

Vangelis didn't answer, just shifted his position so he could stare at the floor and avoid Jonny's gaze.

"Hey kid?"

Still nothing. 

"Look I'm not saying you have to spill your whole tragic backstory to me, but at least say  _ something,  _ yeah?"

No, apparently.

Jonny sighed, settling back in his chair. This was shaping up to be a long night.

Except - quiet enough to hardly be heard above the bar's chatter - all at once Vangelis spoke, words tripping over themselves in their hurry to get out.

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

That threw him.

Surely Vangelis would have killed multiple times by now anyway? Wasn't that how it went? He shot first, never cared to ask questions, and it was a smooth transition to being one of Jack's hired guns. Surely he-

No, said memories he thought he'd forgotten. No, no you'd never killed before this moment. You'd killed and lied and threatened, building up enough of a reputation that no-one pushed it, and it was fine until Jack came knocking for his payments - and everyone knows you don't say no, not when Jack asks.

Vangelis slammed his hand on the table.

"Answer me, if you're such a fucking benevolent stranger, or just get out!"

His voice cracked on the last word, not by much, but Jonny knew what he was listening for.

Jonny spoke slowly, carefully.

"I've lived longer than I ever thought I would. Been all over too - the universe out there is so much bigger than you can imagine."

He sighed and suddenly felt so, so tired.

"Yeah, I've killed. More people than either of us can count, whole armies, even, gone just like  _ that." _

A beat, but it stretched out between them.

"Does that answer your question?"

Vangelis was back staring at the floor, his hand now drumming out a quick beat on the table.

"Does-" he hesitated, "does it get easier?"

Yes, Jonny almost said. Yes so long as you don't think too hard about  _ why. _

"No," he said instead. "No, I think... you just become a worse person."

The silence hung heavy between them, broken only by Vangelis' drumming, a simple rhythm, repeated over and over until Jonny thought he couldn't bear it anymore but he couldn't bring himself to say anything about it.

On and on Vangelis drummed, faster now, and the quiet was heavy but this beat was heavier still, digging into Jonny's brain and-

"Well that was fucking depressing!" he practically shouted, and Vangelis  _ flinched. _

When Jonny continues, he makes sure his voice is quieter.

"I can get you out of here, if you wanted. I've got - well, stole - a spacepod, a tiny thing, only big enough for the one person, but it's got a few more trips in it yet."

Vangelis just shook his head.

"I can't. You  _ know  _ I can't."

Jonny went to say something else, try pushing his luck, maybe, but Vangelis was speaking again.

"Besides," and he spits,and Jonny knows that's all Jack's influence, "unlike some people I pay my debts."


	5. dollops of paint on a new work of art

Some days Vangelis would stay all night, and the two would talk and argue and joke and  _ very carefully  _ skirt around the matter of debts. Other days Vangelis wouldn't seem fully present in the conversation, staring off into space and jumping when Jonny spoke. Those days were the ones where Vangelis left early, muttering about work, and he'd return with red and brown crusted under his fingernails - if he returned at all.

The worst days were when Vangelis didn't show up at the bar at all. Jonny would sit there all night, too stubborn to give up just yet, too unwilling to consider the fact that he might be waiting in vain.

He'd always listen out for mentions of a certain doctor. He didn't know what he'd do if he  _ did  _ hear news that she'd arrived - warn Vangelis, perhaps, or go straight to shooting - but it made him feel more useful than just sitting in the awful silence and  _ waiting. _

  
  


* * *

"Whose name are you stealing today, old man?"

"Aurora. Haven't we moved past this yet?" Jonny tried to grin at Vangelis, but the kid wouldn't look up. 

Ah- it was one of those days then.

"What's up?"

It was a few moments before Vangelis gathered his thoughts enough to speak.

"I just wanted to... feel like I was talking to a real person, you know? With an actual name." 

He ran a hand through his hair; the motion was identical to how Jonny would do it and his metal heart almost softened.

"I've got another job. Not sure I'll come back from this one."

"Wait- you think it's going to  _ kill  _ you?"

Jonny was sure he didn't remember this. Then again, messing with the timeline always did bring unforseen consequences.

"No, nothing like that, Aurora. I- I'm not sure I'll  _ want  _ to come back. This job is, well, it's different to usual."

Vangelis didn't look eager to say more, but Jonny's mind was busy and he was coming to an unfortunate conclusion.

"Different to usual? You mean more, how do we say,  _ personal,  _ perhaps?"

No reply, but the way Vangelis stiffened was enough.

"Alright kid, how about I take this one for you? One more death on the pile - better me than you."

"So I can be in debt to you too?" Vangelis laughed a hollow laugh. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

In hindsight, he should have seen that coming. 

"As you so kindly point out, I'm an old man. If I'm still alive by the end of the month, I'll be the  _ first  _ to complain." 

Jonny shrugged.

"And when I die, that's you free from whatever you think you owe me."

He watched Vangelis' face, trying to figure out what the kid was thinking. If he took the offer, well, Jonny had already done this once, it would surely be easier the second time round. If not - Jonny found himself more than willing to go anyway. Better Vangelis be angry at him than the alternative.

Vangelis shook his head, like he couldn't believe what he was doing as he reached a hand out.

"Shake on it?"

"Shake on it," Jonny agreed, smiling grimly.

He pushed up from the table, checking his gun as he did so. Best to get this over with sooner rather than later. 

"Aurora?" Vangelis practically whispered it, and he didn't look up. "Thank you."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jonny kicked down the door, firing two shots without even looking.

The man inside staggered and fell, one shot through the leg and one through the spine. He's not dead, not quite, though it won't be long now. Jonny dragged up a chair, sitting down in a place that forced the man to look up awkwardly to see him.

"Hello dad."

"Son?" Billy Vangelis coughed weakly. "The years haven't been kind to you, have they?"

Jonny scoffed.

"Don't act like you care now."

Billy laughed, or tried to. It came out wet and sticky.

"How is he?"

"Who?"

Jonny was pretty certain he knew, but he wasn't inclined to make anything easy for Billy.

"My son." Another bout of coughing. "Is he ok?"

" _ I'm  _ your son." He gripped his gun in one hand, beating out a quick, angry rythm with the other. 

"No, you moved on. I see it in- in your eyes. I've been dead to you a long time now, just took this long for my body to catch up."

Billy seemed insistent on not dying until he'd made all his points.

"It was supposed to be young Jonathan doing this. Jack, he-" Cough. "-he knows how to make it hurt."

"Better me here than him. The kid's not a killer-"

Billy's laugh interrupted him.

"You really think that?"

"I said he wasn't a killer, not that he hadn't killed. Believe me when I say there's a difference." Jonny was aware how cold his voice sounded but he didn't care. He wanted out of this whole fucking mess but he couldn't do that whilst Billy was still clinging to scraps of life.

"So cynical. What happened to you?"

"Oh you know," Jonny made a vague motion with his arm, failing to encompass nearly ten millennia of existence in one movement. "Broke my heart, had it replaced. Killed, got killed, came back and just repeated the cycle. Found a crew, lost a crew."

There was a long pause. Were it not for the slight rise and fall of Billy's chest, Jonny would have thought him dead.

"For what it's worth," Billy said at last, "I'm sorry."

"Hm," was Jonny's only response. Too little, far,  _ far  _ too late.

Billy coughed again, and when he took his hand away from his mouth it was spattered with blood. He looked at the blood, and Jonny couldn't tell if he was surprised or just resigned.

"I'm dying," he said, and it was almost a question. "It was always going to end like this, wasn't it?" Billy shook his head, and took a shuddering breath. 

He paused, then whispered "I forgive you, son."

Billy went still. Jonny reached over, shutting his eyes.

He stayed sat by the body for a long time.


	6. that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it's applause

Jonny didn't need to say anything as he sat himself opposite Vangelis. They both knew well enough what had happened.

It had been a few days; Jonny wondered idly what they'd done with Billy's body. He couldn't imagine there being many people who'd care about giving him a funeral.

"Aurora?"

Vangelis' voice startled him out of his thoughts. By the sounds of it, this wasn't the first time Vangelis had said the name.

"What?" he snapped, wincing at how sharp it came out. "Sorry I- what was that?"

Then he frowned, noticing something odd about Vangelis. "Why've you got a whole bag packed?"

"That's what I was saying." Vangelis rolled his eyes. "I'm leaving New Texas. Tonight."

He hesitated.

"Was that offer of a space shuttle still open?"

"Of course. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Well, you'll be dead soon for a start," Vangelis  _ sounded  _ like he was joking. "Plus some new folks round here have been taking an interest in me, so I reckoned now was as good a time as any to get out."

Jonny tried to ignore the way his blood ran cold at that.

"You don't have to always be vague and ominous, you know" he said instead.

"Sorry, you're right, I don't. Now remind me again what your name was?" Vangelis laughed as Jonny threw his hands up in exasperation, but then all of a sudden he grew serious.

"She called herself a doctor, offered me immortality and a chance to see the stars."

"And… did you accept?"

The kid shook his head quickly.

"No. You're old, right? And I've  _ seen  _ how tired you seem at everything, like you've watched hundreds of versions of all these bad decisions hundreds of times before" He shrugged like he hadn't just pychoanalysed Jonny to hell and back. 

"I don't want that to happen to me. I want to just live and die normally, you know?"

Jonny didn't know, not really, but he wasn't going to bring that up now.

"The spacepod's hidden in the dunes near the old receiver tower. Password to disable the security functions is 'insubordinate piece of- you're not even brass!' and the pause is important"

"The hell kind of password is that?"

"It wasn't working, then it was, and now I can't figure out how to change it."

Vangelis made a noise of agreement. Or, at least, he made a noise that wasn't outright contempt.

"And I need a name."

He must have seen the confusion on Jonny's face, because he continued:

"Vangelis was dad's name, and he was a piece of shit. I'm not planning on taking it with me."

"Alright, you got any ideas?"

Vangelis began drumming a beat on the table. 

"I wanted to name myself after someone who meant something to me."

He looked at Jonny meaningfully.

A large volume of thoughts went through Jonny's head in quite a short space of time. He opened his mouth, trying to say something about how he was surprised but oddly proud at having such an effect, how he was honoured at this praise but scared he wouldn't live up to expectations.

What  _ actually  _ came out of his mouth was:

"The fuck?"

"Ok it was a stupid idea I know!" Vangelis sounded angry, mostly at himself.

"Hey, no, that's not what I meant." 

Jonny took a moment to try and put his thoughts into words, or rather, better words than last time.

"It's d'Ville and- you can have it, if you want it. It's just people don't usually want to name themselves after me."

The kid just rolled his eyes. Jonny reckoned if he'd got a pound for every time the kid had rolled his eyes, he'd die a rich man.

"Jonathan d'Ville." 

He said it slowly, trying it out.

"What do you think?"

"You'll grow into it. Hey, kid- can you promise me something?" Jonny waited for his hesitant nod before he carried on.

"Do something decent with that name, yeah? It doesn't have to rock our understanding of the universe or anything, I'm not saying you've got to become famous. Just, do something worthwhile with it, you know? You've got a good heart kid, you'll go far."

Vangelis- no, not anymore.

Young d'Ville? Gods that felt weird to think.

The kid smiled, and it was the most genuine Jonny had seen on him. "Burn this whole fucking place to the ground for me."

He stood up, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. Then suddenly his eyes widened, and he ducked back down quickly with a curse.

"Jack's men -  _ don't turn around  _ \- by the door."

Jonny turned around anyway, as inconspicuously as he could. The two men sat by the door looked exactly like you'd expect people who beat up other people for a living to look. Even sat down they were taller than most other patrons, and they  _ loomed, _ without even trying.

Jonny assessed the odds. Well- he took a brief glance at the odds, and decided he'd be better off not knowing.

"I'll distract them, run when the coast is clear."

"Have you seen them? They'll tear you apart!"

"They can't kill me permanently more times than I was going to die already."

  
  


* * *

  
  


There are lots of ways to start a bar fight and Jonny was decently skilled in all of them. There was the classic "Smashing a bottle open on the table", of course, and the "Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough" was a bit of a cliche but very effective. His favourite method, however, was to get the other side so angry they went and did all the hard work of starting the fight for you.

He got up, standing on his chair and swaying slightly, doing a solid impression of someone just drunk enough to not consider the consequences of their words.

"I hear talk about old One-Eyed Jack!" he shouted, slurring his words slightly.

This got the men's attention, along with most other people in the bar it would seem. And that was good, because if they were looking at  _ him  _ then they wouldn't be looking at the kid sneaking round the side.

"It's not good talk neither!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonny saw the barkeep move any glasses within her reach below the bar to relative safety, just in case. 

"I hear," Jonny dropped the fake slurring, "that he's a cheating-"

The room watched, waited.

"-lying-"

Every word emphasised and sharp

"- _ good for nothing _ -"

The men nodded at each other.

" **_scumbag_ ** _. _ "

And the room erupted into chaos.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Bar fights are like dominoes - you knock one thing down and suddenly everything's collapsing.

The two big men rushed him, knives and knuckle dusters in hand. They were backed up by a number of opportunists who figured that bringing Jack the head of the guy who'd insulted him was the quickest way into his good books.

But not everyone was after Jonny. A fair few patrons had agreed with what he said and- well, if one or two shots "accidently" went wide and hit Jack's men, that's just the nature of these fights, isn't it?

Jonny was having a great time.

With a nod and a smile, young d'Ville had left otherwise unnoticed, the door swinging shut behind him. That meant he was safe, or close enough, but it  _ also  _ meant that there was no-one around Jonny had to be a good example for.

He didn't even bother with his gun, instead taking a swing at anyone who came near enough. There wasn't any thought to it - just the shouting of the fighters and the energy in his blood and his own savage glee and-

And something cold and sharp sliding into his back.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor. Jonny had been stabbed before, of course, but something about this felt…  _ different.  _ This time, he could tell already, the death would stick.

It hurt.

Dying hurt.

Jonny was vaguely aware of the fight still going on above and around him, but it seemed distant - the noise was muffled like he was watching from underwater.

He felt- he felt happy?

This was the end, yes, but he'd carved through every sensation in the universe and it would be nice to finally rest. And he'd made a difference, hadn't he? Young d'Ville was, with any luck, long gone - the whole universe ahead of him and his whole life to see it with. 

He'd made a difference.

_ He'd made a difference. _

And Jonny d'Ville laughed, for the first time in millennia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me/shout at me on tumblr! [regicidal-defenestration](https://regicidal-defenestration.tumblr.com/)


End file.
